The Better Part of Valor
by Alenida
Summary: After the Last Continent fiasco, Rincewind has finally come home. Unfortunately, things start out less than boring and get worse...
1. Grounds!

**The Better Part of Valor**

Disclaimer: Discworld, I do not own. Yoda, I do not either. But his grammar I like to use, when writing stupid disclaimers I am.

A/N: Please review and I will give you more chapters. For once, I haven't written a one-shot. Oh, and due to the near-impossibility of using footnotes, all mine are denoted by a number in ( ).

_" 'And what would human beings be without love?'_

_RARE, said Death."_

_--Sourcery_

Morning dawned slowly on the Discworld. The sunlight flowed like honey over the land (despite its fundamental lack of sweet-and-stickiness). And somewhere in Unseen University, a wizard woke up. For a moment he just groaned and turned over. Then he blinked. He was _in a bed_. After further consideration, he decided he was _in his bed_. A sudden thought struck him, but after patting himself all over quite thoroughly, he decided that his various limbs and appendages were intact. But _something_ had to be wrong. _Something _always was. He sat up. He looked around.

"Oh," he said in a small voice.

Rincewind hadn't slept in Unseen University for a long time. He'd forgotten about the student pranks. And really, a bed floating in mid-air--that was a student prank, no question. But most students weren't skillful enough to levitate a bed by itself. Usually they left a hardened platform of air under it. Usually it was perfectly safe to step out, if you were careful.

As he was plummeting through the air, Rincewind reflected on his bad luck. _Oh yes,_ he thought bitterly. _The intelligent students are the ones who don't like me. Isn't that just typical?_

He lay on the ground waiting for the world to stop spinning and suddenly found himself staring into the concerned face of what appeared to be a student wizard--a very odd-looking student wizard, with very long blond hair, very green eyes, and an almost non-existent beard (1). The fact that the green eyes were worried was the most surprising thing of all. People didn't usually worry about Rincewind. They were more likely to be a) trying to kill him, or b) trying to run him out of town on a rail.

Rincewind licked suddenly dry lips and an unpleasant loud noise started coming from the area of his chest where he'd been led to believe his heart was (2). As far as he knew, this was a practice his body reserved exclusively for dealings with females. Of course, he realized his brain had been singularly scrambled by his descent and impact with the ground, but still--

"Are you all right?" the person asked, in a very high, very musical voice which made Rincewind wonder if maybe he weren't finally dead. Then he reconsidered. If he were dead, he ought to be faced with a seven-foot-tall scythe-toting skeleton with a voice like THIS and an hourglass in one hand, not a five-foot-tall angel with a disastrous beard.

The person coughed and its voice came out much deeper suddenly as it asked, "Do you need me to help you up?"

He wanted to say, "Yes, thanks, mate, that'd be lovely." He really tried hard to say "Yes, thanks, mate, that'd be lovely." It didn't really come out that way. "--urgle--"

The person put his--her--its hand under Rincewind's arms and heaved. Rincewind staggered to his feet and wondered vaguely if there were a God Of Falling From Heights And Getting Your Head All Banged Up (3). There seemed to be a God of everything else (4).

"I haven't seen you around much. Are you a new student?"

Rincewind was fighting a battle with the air--it was steadily refusing to enter his lungs.

"This sort of thing seems to be happening a lot. I think Archchancellor Ridcully isn't assigning enough homework."

This remark slid fluidly over the empty space where Rincewind's brain had been before it oozed out of his ears. He was busy mentally jamming his brain back in place. Finally he turned to the person.

"Er. Thanks."

"Oh, it was nothing," the person shrugged. "So who are you? A new student? I am, myself, just got here last week, and it seems a bit rough, don't you think, but the library's wonderful, and I must say--" The person lapsed into embarrassed silence at Rincewind's unabashed look of astonishment.

"You. Like. It. Here?"

"Of course. Doesn't everybody?"

"Er. Well, that is, I mean, I did, for the parts where I wasn't unconscious or running for my life."

"Oh. You're not a student then?"

"Not anymore."

"You're a real wizard?" The person's voice had an edge of awe in it. "And you're talking to me? I'm a student, I did tell you that, didn't I?"

"What? Oh, yes. Yes, I'm a real wizard. Er. The name's Rincewind. Er. Just Rincewind."

"I'm very pleased to meet you. Do you know, you're the first wizard I've met who hasn't sniffed contemptuously at me, or at least tried dancing around me while singing about little green birds?"

"Oh, you've met the Bursar, have you?" The conversation was cut short by the clanging of a loud bell, which hit Rincewind's unhappy ears extremely hard. So hard in fact that he started trying to answer the telephone and was only brought back to earth by The Person's guilty leap.

"Oh! I should be in class! I suppose I'll see you later?" The Person sounded vaguely hopeful.

"Oh. Er. Yes. Er," Rincewind answered somewhat helplessly. "Er," he added for good measure.

The Person gathered up his/her/its books and rushed off hurriedly. Rincewind was left, scratching his head (5).

Rincewind was running. This was not an unusual state of affairs for him. He wasn't looking back. That wasn't unusual either. As he had always pointed out, looking behind only slowed you down; it didn't slow your pursuers down at all, and full too many a person's last thought had been, "I'll just take a quick look behind, shall I?" At any rate, Rincewind knew what was behind him. It consisted of one very angry orangutan who was missing his bananas. Rincewind was extremely sorry he'd dropped the Librarians bananas into the vat of ice-water reserved for the erotic books, but he knew that if he turned around to explain how sorry he was, he would be a human knot in under five minutes. It wasn't a very appealing prospect.

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Rincewind caught sight of a door. A door, probably to a student's bedroom. Rincewind's mind traveled extremely quickly, like this: _If I go in, there will probably be an angry student. Most students are bad at magic. There might not even _be_ a student in there. Besides, that's better than getting my arms ripped off by the Librarian._

This passed by in a trillionth of a second. He yanked open the door and tumbled in, closing it very quietly in order to escape the Librarian's notice. Then he looked around. There was a bed in the corner. It was a very frilly sort of bed, even for a wizard. It was also pink. There was a person in the bed. In fact, as Rincewind came closer, he realized it was The Person whom he'd met yesterday. Her long, golden hair flowed over the pillow like sunlight or honey. Her eyes were shut, the long dark lashes brushing the cheeks. Her beard was gone. Oh, and she was _definitely _female. No question.

"Whoop!" Rincewind exclaimed. The girl in the bed stirred, opened her eyes and looked at him. "Er…" Rincewind began, but before he could finish, she leaped out of bed and grabbed him in a stranglehold, her knees digging into his back.

"Yowch!" Rincewind yelped, and suddenly found himself staring at a very sharp dagger.

"Swear that you will never reveal to anyone what you have just discovered!"

DON'T. THAT WOULD BE A VERY BAD IDEA, said another voice.

Rincewind's head swiveled around. "YAAAAAAAHHHHHH!" he screamed, then followed up with, "I swear I swear I swear I swear I--" even when she dropped him.

DARN, said Death.

"HA!" snapped Rincewind.

"Who are you talking to?"

"Death."

YOU KNOW, YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO LISTEN TO ME. YOUR SAND HAS STARTED RUNNING BACKWARDS AGAIN.

"GOOD!"

Some of the anger had faded from the girl's face. "What's he saying?"

"He was trying to get you to KILL me!" raged Rincewind. He felt it was fairly safe to get angry at someone who couldn't actually kill you directly. Death had to wait until you were properly killed before he took over. Of course, in the case of Rincewind, sometimes he tried to speed things along a bit.

"So wizards really can see Death then?"

"Yes. Unfortunately."

Death sighed and disappeared. Rincewind glanced at the girl and his eyes stayed where they'd been, completely frozen. She was wearing a negligee. At least, Rincewind thought it was a negligee. He'd heard of negligees. He'd never actually seen one, of course. It sort of went--out--and then in--and then out at the sides and then to the ground--and--and it made the girl look _very_ feminine.

"What's your name?" he asked, or tried to ask. It came out, "Whaaa--ooh…pret-ty…"

SMACK! Rincewind lay on his back wondering whether his teeth were intact.

"Try again," the girl said, crossing her arms.

"Wh-what's your name?" he stuttered.

"I'm Eve. Sometimes. I'm Everett everywhere in Unseen University but this room, however."

"Eve…" the syllable rolled over Rincewind's tongue. He savored it. This was a new experience. Usually he was too preoccupied with survival to have time to reflect on a pretty woman.

"You can leave now," Eve said, in a tone of voice which suggested if he wanted to remain attached to all his various limbs he would be out the door in about two seconds.

"Er…the Librarian was chasing me…er…"

"Out."

"Er, right. You know, that n-negli-robe is very becoming," Rincewind ventured.

"OUT!"

"Er…I'm going, I'm going--owch! Hey! Not the shins!"

Rincewind danced out of the door into the hallway on one foot and collapsed to the floor, nursing his injured leg.

**Footnotes:**

(1) And if you think this isn't so strange, try looking at the wizards at Unseen University. The word 'razor' isn't in their vocabulary.

(2) Contrary to what might be expected, Rincewind was very well-informed in matters of anatomy. This allowed to him to protect his more essential parts by his non-essential parts. For instance, he'd soon figured out that if somebody was charging at him with a spear, usually it was best to get hit in the leg or the arm. Rather than the heart or stomach, that would be, and only if it was imperative that you get hit at all. (Not that Rincewind had been in many situations like that.)

(3) There is, and it's a full-time job.

(4) And a God of Everything Else, for that matter.

(5) Figuratively, of course. The only person in Unseen University who scratched his head literally was the Librarian. And then only when he was short on bananas.


	2. Alcohol and Indiscretion

Disclaimer: I only own Eve.

A/N: I promise this is NOT a Mary-Sue. Eve isn't me; she is just an OC. To Syen: Thanks for all your really nice reviews. AU means "alternate universe" and The Better Part of Valor is based on all the Rincewind stories by Terry Pratchett, which are as follows: The Color of Magic, The Light Fantastic, Sourcery, Eric, Interesting Times, and The Last Continent. (I think. If I've missed any, please someone tell me.)

"An' she wash sho pretty, y'know? She wash wearing this thing--I don't remember what itsh called, but it's really flimshy, if you know wha' I mean." Rincewind was sitting at a table in the Broken Drum, a glass half-full of Ankh-Morporkian beer clutched in his right hand. Not his first. He was telling anybody who would listen about the really, really pretty girl who he'd met and who had threatened him while wearing a negligee. He couldn't remember the word 'negligee', of course, but most of his listeners got the gist. They were all either a) people who had been drunk at one time and knew how to understand people who were or b) people who were currently drunk and who managed through a sort of camaraderie with Rincewind to understand most of what he was saying.

"She wash sho pretty an' she looked at me an' I think she di'n't hate me at firsht shight--she wash tryin' to help me, help me get up, I fell…I think…I think she'sh really pretty…really pretty…" Rincewind was really a lot less drunk than he had often been, but Eve had made enough of an impression on him to cause to him to cycle more quickly through the stages of inebriation than was his wont.

"Her name…wash…wash…um…" he paused for a minute as his befuddled brain tried to close on the elusive syllable, and at that point, a hand touched his shoulder. Somewhat bleary-eyed, Rincewind looked up with a "it-wasn't-me" sort of grin on his face. It was a look he had perfected many years before. It wasn't generally very effective, but after all, Rincewind was nothing if not hopeful. Just because he was practical didn't mean he didn't try everything within his power to safeguard himself, no matter how small or silly.

"Rincewind! It is you, _dear_," Eve's green eyes glared at him, suggesting that he shut up. Rincewind saw the look and tried to shut up, but his treacherous mouth decided to greet her, without first getting permission from his brain (1).

"Hallo, Eve," he started to slur, but before he got farther than, "Hallo, E--", a panicked look crossed the girl's face and she threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his as hard as she could, thereby muffling his greeting to an inaudible, "Mmmph." This turned out to be doubly effective. Firstly, it cut off Rincewind's phrase before he could finish it. Secondly, it put the wizard into a state of mild shock, as the last time anyone had kissed him like that had been during the best dream of his life--which had, incidentally, cut off in the middle of the kiss, leaving him with a mouthful of pillow and a serious desire to harm the anti-Rincewind (2)who was probably experiencing the real thing a few thousand miles away.

A few customers in the Broken Drum--those who hadn't yet passed into a drunken stupor (it was that time of day)--felt distinct pangs of jealousy shoot through them. This would have surprised Rincewind if he had been able to think, and it would probably have alarmed him. Jealousy tended to lead to dislike, which tended to lead to bad things happening to the person at whom the jealousy was directed, and if there was one thing Rincewind tried to avoid, it was bad things happening to him. A few more people wondered what old Rincewind had been doing to pick up a girl like that, and at least one person was only pretending to be drunk and was having an internal monologue that went something like this:

_Rincewind. Wasn't that the name of the Great Wizzard? I think it was. And that girl with him looks suspiciously like--_

At which point the person was distracted by their companion, a huge troll who smiled and slobbered as he ate plate on plate of granite and who liked to play drums on people's heads for amusement, especially when he was intoxicated. He often was.

Rincewind's thoughts--insofar as they could be called thoughts--were going something like this:

_I'm Rincewind, right? _

_Yes._

_Thank you, brain. So why is she kissing me? She _is _kissing me, isn't she?_

_You're welcome. I don't know. I think so._

_Wow._

_Wow._

_Pretty._

_Mashed. _(3)

_Pret-ty…_

_…wha…what is she doing now?_

Eve yanked him up out of his chair and, still kissing him, practically frog-marched him out the door. As soon as she was out, she pulled away and took a deep breath. Rincewind's knees didn't give way, they just never even gave it a try. He collapsed in a heap on the steps.

"Damn," said Eve and bent over him.

He smiled up at her with a look on his face which suggested he was very close to total collapse.

"Eve…" he mumbled.

"Please get up."

"But--you did thi--"

SMACK!

"Don't DO that!" snapped Eve.

"Yes, but you did thi--"

SMACK!

"I had a reason."

"You still did thi--"

SMACK!

"Glorious Evening," said a new voice.

"Oh, damn!"

"I have found you at last!"

"Leave me alone!"

From Rincewind's rather blurred perspective, the rest of the scene went something like this:

Eve kicked at a dark, shadowy figure who folded over with a groan, leaving Eve panting and triumphant. Then a gleaming smile appeared out of the darkness, something which reminded Rincewind forcibly of a children's story someone had read to him when he was five, which had given him nightmares for weeks afterward (4). Eve whirled and suddenly, the smile was attached to the head of an _extremely _large troll. Rincewind saw it grab a kicking, struggling Eve, heard a smug voice from the ground say, "Well done", and then there was darkness.

**Footnotes:**

(1) Rincewind had problems like that. When you're used to doing the first thing that comes into your head because that's the fastest way _not_ to get killed, it sometimes doesn't enter your head that on occasion that's actually the fastest way to _get _killed. Actually, Rincewind had broken both habits years before, but they sometimes came over him again, especially when he had a pint or two of Ankh-Morporkian beer inside of him.

(2) Rincewind had a theory that, since his life had been nothing but _bad _luck, there had to be someone out there on the disc whose life was a succession of wonderful occurrences. It was one of Rincewind's dreams to meet this someone, preferably with a pointed object within arms' reach.

(3) This was a remnant of a slight problem Rincewind once had, involving a large number of beautiful women and a hankering for mashed potatoes. He had therapy for it, but it tended to crop up again in extremely emotional situations.

(4) It involved a small girl, talking animals, and decapitation. As well as the nightmares, it led to Rincewind's complete refusal to play cards for about two years.


End file.
